Just Another 80's Movie
by EclipsedWonderland
Summary: Some light jisbon fluff to lighten up your day : .


**Just Another 80's Movie**

**By: Eclipsedwonderland**

**Edited by: Eclipsedwonderland**

Ahh... Another solved case and a changed man to boot. It was actually quite a good day in the normally dull, sad CBI. Even Jane was feeling the joy, I think, because he asked me out to dessert. That only happened when he was having a good day after all. Normally, we bickered and bantered and laughed, it was nice to spend time with one of my closest friends. Although, I should probably be worried that one of my "closest friends" was a psychopathic, clinically depressed maniac, but whatever. Everyone's gotta survive somehow right?

The cafe was simple and outdoors, a normal spot for our team and one of Jane's favorites... Even if he claimed not to have favorites. It was the afternoon after the case and, for once, I decided to dress down and casual. I traded my heels for simple sneakers, my dress shirt for a salmon colored t-shirt, dress pants for jeans, and my normally straight hair for a mused bun. I felt more at ease and, as I walked there earlier, half expected for Jane to be in casual clothes as well. Of course, he wasn't. Even on his day off the guy couldn't take a break. Suddenly, I felt awkward and not as relaxed as I had when I left that morning.

"Hey." I said a little uncertainly. If Jane caught my tone, he didn't mention it and only smiled in his amused way.

"Well, Lisbon in her weekend wear. Quite a site." He grinned again, "All good with Doc?"

I let out a small sigh of relief and sat down in the chair opposite him, my tension easing slightly as we dove into easier ground. "Yeah. He seems like a changed man." I crossed my legs and sat up straighter, but knew it had no effect.

Jane played with his ring absently as he spoke, "Yeah, he got a perspective few of us ever get. Energizing I expect."

That piqued my interest. He said it with that... Tone that he gets when he wants something, when he's curious about something. With as much nonchalance as I could muster I replied, "Would you want that?"

He glanced at me with a confused expression. "To hear what people say about you when your dead?" I clarified. I thought for a moment that I would get an honest answer, but it quickly passed when he answered too quickly. I realized then that when he "asked" me to clarify he was using spare time to compile an answer that would be "acceptable". Clever.

He stared off into the landscape, as if he was thinking, "When I die they could burn an effigy or build a statue or forget about me completely. I couldn't care less."

I couldn't help but laugh a bit. Like anyone would build a statue for Patrick Jane. I leaned in, determined to get the truth. "You don't mean that. Everybody wants to be remembered."

He blinked a couple times before answering. I'd hit the nail on the head.

"Child vanity..." Was his weak reply. Knowing I had temporarily conquered him, I leaned back pleased. "I want to be remembered." I insisted with true eagerness. I didn't want to just have "Teresa Lisbon. That one girl with black hair and a serious face." written on my grave stone.

"And you shall be. Fondly." Jane said quickly, but I noticed the true sincerity in his eyes. My heart picked up pace a tad and I nearly remarked on his comment before he continued, "But you won't care about it because when you're dead, you're dead and until then..." He trailed off and suddenly a lovely ice cream sundae was placed between us. Yup, he knew I had a weakness for ice cream. This was the second time he abused it. "There's ice cream." he finished and handed me a spoon.

It seemed very mid 80's high school date-like. I was just waiting for the cheesy electronic music to start playing, but I'm only human. Couldn't refuse ice cream. I took a bite and then waited for Jane as he took a bite, staring off obviously contemplating the meaning of death and life.

Throughout the rest of our dessert we joked and talked about Van Pelt and Rigsby and how they were completely still in love. Jane was part of the conversation, but I knew he was distracted. It was getting exhausting. Having Jane know everything about me, but barely knowing anything about him. Usually, I just let it go, but today I knew _something_ had to happen. We had been friends and coworkers for almost 7 years now, it was time to understand the mysterious creature named Patrick Jane. As he tossed the cash down for the check and began getting ready for ritualistic good byes, I gazed out across the patio to the beach. It was a beautiful day and perfect for a walk on the beach. Besides, weird things happened when you walked on the beach with someone. I briefly recalled my college days and nearly let out a small laugh which Jane instantly picked up on.

"What, Lisbon?" He asked, curiously.

I laughed then out loud, "Just remembering when I walked on the beach with boys during college. Somehow it always ended in sex on the sand."

Jane chuckled and stood next to me silently.

"Do you want to go?" I asked eying him.

His smiled deepened and I realized what he was thinking. I blushed furiously and defended myself, "No not that! Just walk, just... ya walk." I sighed and looked away, furious at the blush on my cheeks.

He grinned, "Sure. Let's go."

So we did. We jumped over the patio wall onto the sand. Wanting to get the whole effect, I toed off my shoes and peeled off my socks feeling the soft, warm sand beneath my feet. Jane tossed his coat down and mimicked my own actions, but also rolled up his pants. Even in such an awkward gidup, Jane still looked good. No one could deny that. I started walking first, letting the wind rip itself around me and tossle my hair more, but then Jane stopped suddenly in his tracks. We were several yards from the water and he stared deeply off into the sunset. I stood silently next to him, trying to see what he saw.

"A-Angela and I used to take Charlotte to the beach all the time. She loved it..." He began, his voice far off. I struggled to keep my composure as he spoke, "She was a pianist, you know? Something Angela suggested." He laughed weakly, "She said when Charlotte played her first recital, 'She's like you, you know. A genius. She's going to be something one day.'" Jane's face crumpled into guilt and regret, "Guess Angela wasn't right on that one, but she doesn't care now and Charlotte doesn't remember the beach now." He turned to me then, tears clearly outlining his lower lid, "Don't you see? Once you die, you die. Who cares if you're remembered? You're still dead and the people you left behind still hurt."

My mouth hung open as I searched for something to say. Anything. And, without thinking, I found it. "But being remembered is all that really matters." I said softly, "The only thing we have left after people die is what they left behind, what we can remember them by. When my mom died, that's all I could cling to for the longest time. My memories of her. Nothing else would comfort me." I turned to him, fear striking my heart at his stern look, "If I didn't have those memories I would have never been able survive my dad's drunken beatings and cared for my brothers. From my memories of her, I knew there was something more to be found. Happiness, so what she left behind gave me hope as well. And Patrick?" His first name felt strange on my tongue. I nearly reached out and touched him when he turned his body towards me and away from the horizon. "You need to remember the things they left behind too."

I expected for him to withdraw at that moment, to go back to his usual nonchalant attitude, but something seemed to click. You could call it an epiphany, but he realized that I was right I think. And suddenly, before I could think, I had strong arms around me. The scent of Jane's unfamiliar cologne flooded my nose and the soft, expensive cotton of his shirt crushed against me. I never realized that I was so much shorter than Jane, a perfect fit right under his neck. I hugged him back without thinking, trying to ignore the burning feeling that flooded me wherever our bodies were connected. He was holding me firmly, but not like he was desperately clinging to anything.

"Thank you, Teresa." He said softly, pressing a hand against the back of my head. I felt a rain... No, a tear drop fall into my scalp and couldn't help but to hold him tighter. I couldn't imagine living with the guilt that Jane dealt with everyday, but I could carry part of his burden.

"I used to hold Angela like this on the beach as well..." He said softly. My cheeks immediately flushed and I nearly pushed away, but then I reminded myself that this was important for him. He needed to think about the good memories, even if it meant using me as a duplicate for his wife. Which was, from my point of view, just awkward.

Jane continued, "We would watch Charlotte play in the water and just laugh watching her. She was a little taller than you, Angela was, but she would still fit right underneath my jaw and I always felt like I could protect her from anything. We'd talk, when I held her, about Charlotte's future, ours, our awkward dates and our wedding day... Anything, really. And then..." Jane muttered, but he didn't seem lost in thought when he spoke. "I'd shift my chin, and place a kiss." He kissed the crown of my head and my nerves tingled. "Right there."

My heart was going to spill out of my chest and onto the beach, I just knew it. I couldn't even fathom so much love, I hadn't known how much he had truly loved her. And, God, it was impossible to listen to, but then Jane laughed and pulled away lightly to gaze down on me. He laughed again, seeing the distraught and confused expression on my face.

"It was good, but... It's gone. They're gone." For once, Jane's face didn't crumble when he said that. "And... I think it's time to move on."

Joy bubbled into my face and I grinned hopefully at him. No more chasing Red John, no more constant angst, just Jane relearning who he was. As if to prove his point, Jane slipped off his wedding ring with some effort. Looking down on it with a sad smile he tossed it far into the ocean. Without thinking, I wrapped myself back around him and squeezed him hard.

"I'm proud of you, Patrick." I said, my voice nearly trembling.

He chuckled, "You know... There is something I've missed in the last 8 years."

I turned my head up to face him, suspicious. He wasn't about to pull moves on me, was he? I wasn't a freaking rebound.

I think he noticed the defiance in my eyes and his face softened, "I would never use you, Teresa. You know that, right?"

I nodded, seeing the pure honesty in his eyes. He smiled again and leaned down closer to me.

"Forgive me if I'm unpracticed." He said and laughed lightly as his lips landed softly, experimentally on mine. As if pulling on an old pair jeans, Jane quickly became confident in our kiss and brought his hands up to cup my face. Removing my hands from his back, I wound them around his neck and into his hair. A love that I didn't even know I had poured out from me and puddled at his feet as he kissed me softly and sweetly, not pushing anything and not asking for more.

And then I realized. This really was like an 80's movie and I could hear the electronic music in the background.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Awww! Yeah, some sweet/cheesy Jibson for your enjoyment. It isn't meant to be a deep, complete story. Just some fluff for a fun read :). Inspired after the ice cream scene in episode 9 of season 4.

R&R, pretty please!

-Eclipse


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